The Morning Star
by Booklover291197
Summary: Valentine isn't dead, and he has come back for Jocelyn. Will she resist? Or will we learn some dark secrets she's hidden for years? And does he have some more secrets of his own...
1. The Awakening

Bright shards of sunlight were beginning to pierce through the peace of Jocelyn Fray's dreamless sleep. Wrapped Luke's a warm embrace she lay for a few minutes listening to the sound of his heart beating. Only then did she realise something is wrong. You see werewolves heartbeats are slightly faster than humans, and this heartbeat was in perfect timing with her own. Yet there was something overwhelmingly familiar about the way she fit perfectly in this strangers arms. A shock so violent that it sent waves crashing like a tsunami through her entire body, pulled her unceremoniously from any state of sleep and had her pushing out of _his_ arms as if she had been dowsed in holy fire. But Valentine Morgenstern tightened his arms around her and whispered quietly, too quietly

"Good morning, love. Did you sleep well?"

Jocelyn ignored this, in disgust, and continued to fight tooth and nail the free herself from the iron cage that were his arms. She managed to free one arm and attempted to tear his eyes out of the sockets, but he knocked her hand away and pinned it more firmly under his as casually as he did this every day. _He probably did the bastard_ she thought bitterly. She proceeded to try and spit in his face but again he lazily extracted his other arm and covered her mouth. But it was no use the more she fought, the tighter he held her and the angrier they both got. It went on like this for a few minutes before he held her so tightly she was beginning to feel faint form the lack of oxygen. _Good _she thought _let me faint, let me get away from this nightmare._ But Valentine seeing what was going to happen if he held on let go, still keeping a strong grip on her fiery red hair, not that he cared much if she was hurt whilst disobeying him but after the trouble it had taken for him to take her he wanted her to be awake to see what he had done.

She sat up as far as she could with his hand holding a fist full of her hair, and looked up at him like a deer in the headlights with her vibrant green eyes wide and full of dread. He was looking back at her with a mixture of triumph and disappointment. This women, Jocelyn Morgenstern, as the reason he had spent the last years of his life having to raise a broken boy alone, the reason he had finally lost his mind, the reason he had been celibate for SIXTEEN YEARS! A wave of pure unadulterated hatred washed over him and he flung her from him has hard as he could, which was a considerably amount of strength. Jocelyn hit the wall with such force she felt her arm and ribs break on impact, she bit back the scream of pain that was threatening to burst from her. The tactical shadow hunter part of her mind was telling her to ignore the pain and run, but Valentine was looming over her before she could put the idea into action. He had always been and big man. Broad shouldered, thick set muscles and a face, which she had always thought of as sculptured, but which was now almost always fixed into a cold scowl. But looking up through her haze of pain she did not see this expression, his face which as always so cold and inscrutable was as open as a book. It was full of rage, pain and for some reason confusion.

As suddenly as letting the air out of a balloon Valentine seemed to deflate. He crouched in front of her and pulling a stele, apparently out of nowhere, he began to draw an _iratze_ on her wrists. Jocelyn sat and waited watching his skilled movements and the way his muscles moved under his shirt. It was really amazing how the same muscles that hurt her could also heal. Once done he looked up through his silver lashes and said very carefully and clearly

"Try and run and I will break every bone in your legs. Try and crawl away and I will break every bone in both your arms. And so on and so on until I run out of bones. And don't think that I will heal you next time, you wanted to live as a mundane therefore I will treat you like one" He stood and walked to the door. "Not that I think that will stop you"

He turned swiftly and knocked her out cold. _Oh well _he thought mildly _she will learn. _And with that Valentine walked out of the room locking inside it the women who was both his greatest love and greatest enemy.


	2. At Last

Valentine walked swiftly and purposely down the long winding corridor. It had lamps filled with witchlight, which cast an eerie glow on his angular features. He came to a blank patch of wall and hovered his hand over the barely visible handle of the door. Opening and walking through he began to whistle a complex tune, which only a few people would recognise as the music of his first dance with Jocelyn at their wedding. One of these such people happened to be sitting in the iron cast cell. The thing that used to be a man looked up with a look so full of hatred it caused the fair hairs on the back of Valentine's neck to stand on end. His blood began to coarse through his veins screaming enemy enemy enemy!

"Did you sleep well Lucian? I did. In bed with my wife again you see, always a pleasure isn't she?" the words felt bitter even as he said them.

Luke's blue eyes seemed to burn as if nothing would have pleased him more than to stand a rip his former _parabatai _limb from limb. But he said, in a voice shacking with supressed rage

"I thought so especially when she's actually in love with you, not just pretending so she could rip your plans apart from the inside…"

The pale haired man could not hear else anything above the roaring in his ears. His hands shook as he fought to keep control. No one would benefit from murder right now. _Oh but it would feel so good _the less rational part of his brain argued _Wipe that smug look from its face _it continued as it always did when his got into this state _Remove it once and for all from your life… _Well that did sound like a good idea.

He felt the calm that always came right before the murderous storm. The tensing of his muscles, the heightening of his senses and the certainty that was his only justification. Walking very slowly to the cell door, opening it he made every move precise with great effort. Finally standing face to face with this foul creature with no more distractions or interferences, he could feel the revenge so close that he could almost taste it. Valentine expected it the fight, to yell, to act. But Luke did none of these things, he simply stared knowing what was going to happen and accepting it.

"You can do this thing old friend but just know that the release it brings you will never equal the consequences when she learns to truly hate you for it" he said the words with so much conviction and truth that a lesser man than Valentine Morgenstern would have retracted. As it was he stood for a few seconds.

As it so often does hatred overwhelmed logic, drawing the already glowing _seraph _blade he swung it in a glowing arch…then Lucian Graymark's body no longer had its head.

He stood there covered in blood, drenched really, and felt and unpleasant twinge in the old _parabatai _rune over his heart. Ignoring this he dropped the blade in disgust thinking once again _she will learn_. As he when out of the prison room to go and have a shower he had no way of knowing that he had in fact just granted her dearest wish… 


	3. The Door

Once again it was sunlight that woke Jocelyn from unconsciousness, it was warm and pleasant on her face. Then the memories began to crawl their way back into her mind like a disease eradicating any sense of calm. She sat up and looked around the room properly for the first time. Everything was white. The walls, the floors, the bed, the tables, the wardrobe even the bloody cup her water was in was white. To mundanes white was symbol of good and purity, but Jocelyn was raised as a shadowhunter a knew perfectly well what message this room was meant to give off. Death. Pure and simple. Fear began to creep into her subconscious but she beat it back, she would not be intimidated she promised herself. Not after all she had been through! Not after all she had survived! Well that was the theory, whether it would actually happen was a whole different matter.

How long she sat in that room Jocelyn would never know. She tried to open the door but got a severe electric shock which was enough for her to try to find a way out of the window. But became almost hypnotized by it, enough that she forgot completely what she was trying to do. The window in question, which she had since decided was an illusion, never showed any sign of changing the scene, weather or sunlight beyond it. It simply showed a field with wild yellowing grass and I cherry tree standing alone. There was no breeze to ruffle the leaves and the sun never moved from its high position in the sky. Yet surely time must be passing. The one cup of water had run out a long time ago and her stomach began to growl. After what felt like hours she stomped moodily over to the table with its stupid plastic chair _beware of the plastic white garden chair _she thought and began to laugh. And carried on laughing. Until she was on the floor in hysterics. Being alone with nothing but fear and suspense as companions will do strange things to you.

She was snapped abruptly from this strangeness by the door being opened. Valentine stood there framed in the doorway dress in all black, his pale hair a damp halo. He smiled almost infinitesimally and raised an arm beckoning her to him. Only the thought of spending even a moment longer in that room could have pushed her to run to him without thinking of the possible consequences. Seeing her run to him sent small shockwaves through his ego.

As they walked out of the room down the long winding corridors Jocelyn didn't give a second thought to where they were going to, so glad was she to be away from _that_ room. They arrived at the door that seemed to lead out of the apartment. Confusion chased its way around her head _what is going on?_ Valentine's smile grew until he looked like a particularly fearsome predator. Upon looking at his face Jocelyn broke her earlier promise not to be intimidated, she began to shake. His face suddenly became expressionless as he pushed open the door…


	4. Expect the Unexpected

**Hey guys thanks for the reviews **** Sorry this one took so long xx Please review!**

_His face suddenly became expressionless as he pushed open the door… _

…Jocelyn had been right earlier to think that the window in the apartment was an illusion. Looking out this door what confronted her was a giant forest, that stretched as far as the eye could see, yet strangely was totally devoid of leaves. The sun, which had so tormented her, was not high in the sky but in fact setting leaving a burnt orange light on everything it touched. It was like the world had been doused in wild fire. Shock numbed her brain as it failed to process what she was seeing, because surely this was too good to be true. Resting on an abandoned tree stump, not far away, was a head. Not just any head. The blue eyes she knew so well had split pupils. And fangs were halfway out the dead blue lips. _Midway through transformation _the cold factual part of her brain mentioned unnecessarily. Luke. That was Luke's head. Blood, dark black and congealed, was splattered over the stump and the ground around it. It was the kind of clean cut only a shadowhunter could produce. The meaning of what she was seeing finally sank in. for the first time in the last five minutes, that had lasted a millennia, she remembered the man standing next her, and looked up into his blank eyes.

Valentine looked at his wife her hair in this light looked like the brightest of flames. The bright green eyes met his uncompromising black ones and he felt confusion rocket through all his senses. He had been waiting patiently for her reaction would it be fear, hatred, betrayal or grief. But no what he could see was…was…relief? _What the hell was going on? _he thought to himself. He must be seeing wrong. But no she was defiantly seeing a smile start and if he was not very much mistaken he had heard a sigh of relief. _I've gone insane _he thought _of course your insane you've been for years _another voice in his head yelled _then your asleep _another argued _or dead _a rather sinister one whispered. Shaking his head to try and dispel the voices, he summarised that she must be acting, but this to was wrong, he had seen his wife act for months on end when she was planning to sabotage him and _this_ look was genuine. And anyway what would she gain even if she was?

She could practically hear his brain whirling trying to work out her reaction. Jocelyn knew she should be keeping a straight face, but she just couldn't stop the smile that was spreading across her face. The relief that was spreading through her body was too strong.

"Thank you" she said quietly.

He blinked a few times and shook his head. Open and closed his mouth twice, then finally said a little too loudly "What!?"

"I said thank you"

He just continued to stare "Yes, that's what I thought you said" his tone was low as if talking to himself more than her. He looked around distractedly, then glanced once more at her.

"Ok" he swallowed and started again "Ok, we are going to eat, and then you're going to explain _that _reaction" his voice had got slowly more forceful and by the end he was practically barking the words. He slammed the door shut, the frame began to vibrate.

She just nodded slowly and said in a surprisingly normal steady tone "It would be my pleasure"


	5. Waiting Always Waiting

**Hey guys, happy New Year! Sorry it's been so long I haven't been writing over the holidays and I've just had my mock exam week, but I hope you like it. Please review 3**

And that was the reason Jocelyn Morgenstern found herself sitting in a small sterile looking kitchen surrounded by the smell of frying bacon. The room, like everything in this house it seemed, was pure white and simplistic. As was in the other rooms she had visited there was only one window, but this one was huge and took up the entire wall opposite to where she was sitting on a stool at the island in the middle of the room. This window though was not glamored. This would not have seemed like a big deal to a mundane, in fact it would seem rather modern and stylish. But for Jocelyn, who had lived most of her life, as had Valentine, in Idris were things were humble and the opposite of modern, this house was very unusual.

"Why is everything white?" she asked offhandedly.

Valentine turned and the put the bacon onto two very white plates, walked to the fridge pulled out eggs and began to fry them as well. In the process he managed to totally ignore what she had said and scowl at the wall as if it had done him grievous harm. Trying again she ventured

"Well, you've learned to cook…"

This time he did give her a look, and a very disgusted look it was too. In a voice mixed with indignation and exasperation he said very slowly as if taking to a child "Of course it did, do I look like I've starved to dead to you?" after a slight pause he added "And I've raised two children in case you've forgotten"

She sighed feeling a twinge of gilt, and looked down at the eggs he was now putting down beside the bacon. Her belly gave a loud rumble. Without another word she pulled the mouth-watering food towards her and began to eat wolfing it down as Valentine poured out fragrant black coffee. They sat there like that for a few minutes eating. Then a sudden thought struck her _how long have I been here?_ She opened her mouth to ask, but he said in a very stern voice "Don't. You do not get to ask any more questions until you've answered _all _of mine." He paused and then finished brandishing his fork at her "Do you understand?"

She was about to argue that he hadn't even answered her first question, but thought better about it. Resisting the urge to poke her tongue out at him like a child, she settled to pouting at him whilst nodding.

"Good" he said sounding genuinely relived, and got up to clear the table.

Later on that night Valentine showed her the last room of the house. The library was the only room in the house with colour in it. The walls, which stretched so high she had to crane her head to see the tops, were a deep blood red. Also unlike the other rooms in the house there were giant glass windows that were taller than she was, looking out of them she could see the stars that were dotted all around. There was a small flash as one of the bright dots propelled itself across the sky

"The morning star" she whispered to herself.

_Oh well there's no point putting it off any longer _she thought determinedly and look around to see him sitting in a plush black velvet chair. An identical one sat right opposite and he gestured for her to sit. Walking slowly as if she could still put off the inevitable Jocelyn sat down and took a deep breath, looking into the endless black pools of curiosity and mistrust she began in a dead monotone voice she could hardly believe was her own

"Well, I guess I should begin with the day everything changed…


	6. Her Story

**Hey, hope you're enjoying so far, in this chapter you'll finally get to hear the reason behind Jocelyn's strange behaviour. The next chapter will be her memories/dreams so it may take a bit longer to write. Anyways please review xx **

"Well, I guess I should begin with the day everything changed" she paused to think this was going to be harder than she thought.

"Yeees" Valentine said impatiently.

_Well he had every right to be impatient he's been waiting for this for 17 years for this _she thought miserably.

"Ok…ok…as I said the day it…it…"

_SNAP OUT OF IT _she told herself sternly, not even daring to look up at his reaction.

_Don't lose your temper, don't lose your temper, don't lose your temper_ he said over and over like a mantra in his mind _she'll talk eventually…URHHGG HURRY UP…no no no just breath and do not lose your temper._

Finally after what seemed like a decade she started again.

"I was so angry that day, with you, with myself, with the whole dammed world. But mostly because of what you did to Johnathan" she paused for breath but he interrupted.

"Yeah, I know this part already, I fucked up so you decided to do something about it and you ran off with the werewolf" he spat the last word like a curse.

She shook her head slowly, "No. No that's what he wanted you to believe"

He felt his jaw drop but reined in his need to talk, for the fear she would stop talking again.

Jocelyn continued "So anyway, it found out and I was angry. But not for the reason you think. Not because you experimented on me or our child. After all had I not been married to you for 5 years? Did I not know what you were capable of? Yet I married you anyway because I accepted that. No I was angry because you did something you swore to me you would never do. You lied to me."

He sat in stunned silence for a second, in a voice that was barley a whisper his said "_What?_"

"You lied to me. In the worst possible way. When we first got together I knew in order to get what you wanted you had to lie to anyone and everyone around you. Did I not make you swear to me then that I would not be one of those people? But you did it anyway! Did it not even occur to you to _ask _me?!" her voice took on a pleading tone with the last sentence.

He tried to speak but shock had paralysed his tongue "But…"

"BUT NOTHING! I WAS LOYAL TO YOU COMPLETELY!" she took a deep breath to calm herself "Do you really want to know what would have happened if you had come and asked me if you could give me the demon blood to try and make our son a perfect warrior?"

_No _he wasn't sure if he did, he was pretty sure the answer would haunt him for the rest of his life. But seemingly without his permission he nodded.

"I would have said yes! You know why? Because I _trusted_ you, in what you said _and _what you believed. Besides he was my child."

Finally his brain unfroze "You can't say that. You hated him from birth, if you could have accepted him you would have done it then."

She shook her head again "I ran from you when he was 6 months old, if you had told me I would have had 9 months to accept it. Plus it would have been my choice instead of an act of violation and betrayal." Her voice broke at the last word.

His whole body felt numb not for the first time self-loathing washed over him. He opened his mouth to talk, but after wiping tears away impatiently Jocelyn carried on in an unsteady voice.

"The only reason I went to Lucian in the first place is because he was the only person who hated you but that would trust me. He'd always loved me so I played on that to get him to help me…but after…at the house after the uprising…when I found the bones…" there were never going to be words for the emotions of that night.

"…I knew you weren't dead, you'd never risk burning in hell because of suicide, but Johnathan…" again she stopped.

This time Valentine said, in a strangely gentle voice "You _were _going to take him with you?"

She looked up tears cascading down her cheeks and nodded "I didn't want to leave at all, but I knew I had gone too far, that I had overreacted" regret was lacing her voice now "after when we had run to Paris he _proposed_ to me…I knew that I had acted too well, so I said no and left and went to New York. The wolf pack there was vicious so I hoped he wouldn't come back, plus I knew the Lightwood's had been sent to the institute there and that they were loyal to you. I hoped it would be easier for you to find me there" she took a shuddering breath "But he still came back! This was when Clary was ten but I let him stay so it would be even more obvious that I was there…I assumed that when you did find me you would kill Lucian for raising your daughter. The worst part is I didn't even have to make up a story as to why I changed sides, they assumed and I let them believe the lie."

When it was clear she was not going to continue he stated "I'm going to ask you questions now"

"Ok" she said resigned.

"You were going to marry him"

"That's not a question. It's a statement."

He stared at her clearly pissed off. When she still didn't answer he stood up and began to pace. She recognised this as a dangerous trait.

"Ok ok yes. I've lived a lie for so long it doesn't really matter anymore, besides it was a mundane ceremony it doesn't count"

"If this is all true why do you try to hide Clarissa from me?"

Looking a little shocked by the question she replied "I wasn't hiding her from _you _I knew she was different, not that I knew why yet, but I knew that if the Clave found out about her they would try to raise her with their ideas and she would think like them"

"Ok, but even then why did you take the potion when I finally did find you?"

There was a very long pause whilst she looked back down at her clasped hands "I was a coward" she open her hand and looked at the faded _voyance_ rune "I…was…scared of your reaction"

Valentine stayed silent for so long that she eventually looked up. Looking into her fearful and regretful eyes he said so quietly and slowly it was threatening "Are you not still?"

She gazed up with widened eyes, and open her mouth even though she had no more words.

"Go to bed, I'll see you tomorrow"

The sudden dismissal was like a slap in the face, but she go up anyway and eventually found her way back to the room. Laying back into the white velvet sheets her last conscious thought was _Will he even let me wake up tomorrow?_


	7. Awake and Dreaming

**Hey guys, as I said these are Jocelyn's dreams/memories as I have imagined them (Some speech are quotes from City of Bones but I do not own anything) Please review x**

_**Fairchild manor, Idris – 1991**_

Wisps of ash floated all around like snowflakes, they settled on her eyelashes making the already treacherous journey through the rumble almost impossible. But she didn't care, not that she fell so many times that her hands were bloody or that the smoke she was inhaling was slowly chocking her to death. Having pushed her way through a collapsing door frame Jocelyn was suddenly blinded by the last reminiscence of the fire, which was blazing through a room she barley recognised as her childhood bedroom. The warmth of the flames sent of an overdue alarm of danger in her head.

Staggering back she tried to run, but instead tripped and landed hard on a charred beam of wood. Head still spinning she looked up and for the first time in her life the night sky had no stars, they had been blotted out by the smoke. Coughing hard she managed to drag herself into a sitting position, wincing as a sharp pain shot through her ribs. She began to crawl on her hands and knees through the never ending pile of rubble that had once been her home.

There was something not far away that, unlike everything else around her, was not charred or wood or glass or from this distance destroyed at all. _Don't look, don't be curious _she told herself _look at what that did for you the last time. _Ignoring her better instincts she crawled toward the objects anyway.

Shock tore through her brain and heart leaving nothing but paralysing pain behind it. She was suddenly being dragged backwards, hauled away from the smoke and…and…

"Jocelyn. Jocelyn" a frantic voice from very far away was saying "Jocelyn can you hear me, are you ok?"

_Ok? Am I ok? I'm numb. Is numb ok? _She thought resentfully to the distant voice.

The figure was suddenly standing in front staring into her face. _Blue _she thought feeling, well feeling nothing _his eyes are blue._

The need for sleep, for unconsciousness, was overwhelming.

"Their gone" she told Lucian.

"Who's gone?" he asked sounding worried.

_Everyone worth living for…and it's my fault, _then she let the blissful darkness take her far away from her unwanted reality.

_**Paris institute, France – 1991**_

_Will you marry me? Really? Had he really just said that? No! He couldn't really believe I'd do that!? _The thoughts were running riot around her head, but she had proved many times before that she was too good of an actress for her own good, and here again was proof. They sat in a spare room in the Paris institute, even though she had only been in one institute before, in Geneva, she was beginning to get bored of the same dull rooms that they contained.

"So?" Lucian's voice was a mixture of anxiousness and excitement.

Jocelyn looked up into his inspecting face, trying to compose it from annoyed and disgusted to shocked and thoughtful. She tried desperately to think of an excuse to repel his proposal that was not the truth, because the truth was that right now she would rather have run off the edge of the Eiffel tower than spend one more moment with the creature that had, had a hand in causing the catastrophe that was now her life. Of course there was the slap in the face when she realised that she was almost as responsible as he was but she couldn't escape herself even as much as she wanted to.

"It is amazing of you to ask" she said forcing the empathy in her voice to sound real, whilst pouring the eye drops down her face to resemble tears when her back was turned from him "But you would only be doing it out of sympathy and then you would be stuck with me and child who is not your own." Turning to him she said with a fake sob "I refuse to burden you with that."

She touched his face affectionately, even though it felt like pressing her hand to a branding iron, and turned away and out of the doors the institute, hoping beyond hope she would never see his face again.

_**Jocelyn's Flat, New York – 2001**_

"Mary had a little lamb,  
>little lamb, little lamb,<br>Mary had a little lamb,  
>and its fleece was white as snow"<p>

Clary's voice travelled to Jocelyn through the thin walls of the flat, as she began painting the backdrop of Alicante.

"And everywhere that Mary went,  
>Mary went, Mary went,<br>everywhere that Mary went  
>the lamb was sure to go"<p>

The last detail of the background was done and she began to add in the flames.

"It followed her to school one day  
>School one day, school one day<br>it followed her to school one day  
>which was against the rules."<p>

The orange of the last flame just wasn't quite right. There was a knock at the door.

"MUM!"

"I heard it, darling" She said and heard the singing resume.

_I feel sorry for whoevers out there it's like a tornado out there _no sooner had she thought it she opened the door and realised she didn't feel sorry at all. No, she defiantly did not feel sorry. In fact she felt frankly pissed off. But she put a smile on her face and through her arms around him anyway, because this was her life now, it was not what she felt that mattered.

"Who's that mummy?" came a small voice from behind her.

Disentangling herself she turned around and bent down to her daughter's height. At a quick glance, or possibly more than a quick glance, Clary looked like a clone of her mother. But when she was first born Jocelyn had taken the time to look for features that were not her own, it was a very hard thing to do and to this day she had not found any. In personality however Clary and Jocelyn were nothing alike, instead the girl had gotten her father's stubbornness but more importantly his determination. The thought made Jocelyn smile.

"This is my old friend…Luke" well that was not technically a lie, she would have to explain the name change to Lucian afterward.

He to bent down and said steadily "Hello…"

"Clary" whispered her daughter

"Hello Clary, that's a beautiful name"

Clary quickly glanced at her mother. With a sign Jocelyn said, even though the words tasted like poison "Its ok sweetheart, Luke is a good man you can trust him"

The worst part about this statement though was not that she had not wanted to say it, it was that it was probably true, Clary would probably have a more trustworthy parent in him than she ever would in her own mother. With that thought in mind Jocelyn stood up and shut the door accepting the inevitable.

_**Jocelyn's Flat, New York – 2007 **___

"Don't wait up" Clary yelled from downstairs.

The word reverberated through Jocelyn's mind. How had she let this happen? If she was any kind of parent she would have raised Clary as a shadowhunter and be done with it. Teach her not to trust most shadowhunters and certainly not the Clave. But instead she had been lazy and relied on a warlock and a werewolf! _This is my fault _she thought not for the first time, in fact it seemed to be all she thought.

She went over and sat by the window, looking out into the now familiar street. A sudden flash caught her eye. _A seraph blade?_ Another flash this time of white blond hair.

"Shit!" she spat recognising beyond doubt who _that_ was.

It must have been an extremely strong glamor for her to only get glimpses through. _That or its been too long since you've had your last mark _a nasty little voice whispered in the back of her mind.

"Oh shut up!" she said aloud.

_What do I do? _She thought desperately. It was either stay and face him, what would he do? _Kill you, torture you, you know what he does to traitors…and you would deserve it _Stupid stupid little voice, but at the same time she couldn't help but agree with it. The only other option would be to run and barricade herself into another room and take the potion. _Coward! _the voice screamed.

"Right again" she said, voice shaking, as she ran to the bathroom.

It was not a moment too soon as she locked the door behind her hearing the bang as the front door was knock off its hinges. Scrambling around now looking for the box she heard footsteps going around the flat. A mixture of dread and longing filled her at the sound.

Finally finding the box she began to undo the lid _no wait _she had to call Clary, had to think of her daughter. Protect her child before acting on impulse _this time_. She grabbed her mobile and it rang once…twice…three times.

"Dam it Clary answer the phone!" she pleaded.

Again she rang, this time Clary answered on the second ring

"Mum?" an annoyed voice answered

"Don't come home! Go to Simon's and call Luke—" she stopped as an axe crashed through the bathroom door.

It had been the last thing she had wanted to say but she would not have her daughter pay for her mistakes as her son had done. Another crash and she could she _him _through the gap. Quickly she opened the bottle and drank it down in one.

"NO!" she heard him yell.

It was the last think she heard before blackness engulfed her mind.


	8. Vertrauen?

**This one is kind of short but the next one will be longer promise, as always please review x**

Valentine Morgenstern sat on the edge of her bed watching as Jocelyn's eyelids fluttered and she mumbled incoherently, clearly having disturbed dreams. He felt the familiar mixture of love and anger that the sight of her usually conjured up, but it now had an extra helping of confusion in the haze of his emotions.

Her eyes suddenly flew open and dazzled him temporarily, the pupil dilated so wide the black almost swallowed the green. She stared at him for a couple of minutes, obviously trying to figure something out. Her tangled hair was spread around her like a halo, the white sheets making it an even more violent shade of red. He wondered what she was thinking and didn't have to wait long to figure out as at that exact moment she sat bolt upright her face inches from his, her breath warm on his face

"How come up believed me?" her voice was quiet as if she had not wanted it to escape her lips.

_Those lips _he remembered those lips on his. A shiver passed through him, _question…there was a question…umm _pulling himself from his scrambled thoughts he replied steadily

"You could not have lied, that's why"

She pulled back slightly, cocking her head to the side "Why?"

"Look at your back"

She scrambled out of bed and walked to the full length mirror opposite, his eyes followed her lazily. Pulling her hair over one shoulder Jocelyn looked down at her shoulder blade. Siting in the place where her wings would be, if she had any, was a mark. But not one she had ever seen before. Stifling a gasp she sat back down on the bed, this time as far away from him as possible, and said in a voice slightly higher than normal

"What is it called?"

"It doesn't have a name, it is new to this world."

Trying to understand that made her head hurt so she said plainly "How did you do that? I thought only Clary could do that?" She was quite sure her daughter was still in New York.

"I didn't." he said simply "And she isn't the only one"

"What?!" the word was out of her mouth without her brains permission.

After a long pause, such a long pause in fact that Jocelyn began to think he would not answer, he closed his eyes and said in a monotone voice "That is a _very_ long story"

She waited for him to look back up at her before saying "Well it's a good thing I'm an excellent listener."


	9. His Story

His Story

**I'm really enjoying writing this, hope your enjoying reading it just as much. Please review guys x**

Valentine took another long moment to think _is it really worth it, to tell her?_

She continued to stare and he decided it was after all this was not the type of thing he could hide for too long if she was going to stay willingly.

"Well, if I'm going to explain properly you might as well know that Johnathan and Clarissa are not my only children." He chose the words carefully to gage her reaction.

_Oh this is going to be good _she thought but said aloud "How many more?"

"Three by blood"

_Wow, it just keeps getting better _"How old are they, I thought you said you had been celibate for the last 17 years?"

He had known the question would come but that didn't make it any easier to answer "I have been, two of them are sixteen, the other one died last year, he was eighteen."

Jocelyn felt like he had just slapped her "That's whilst we were married" she stated stupidly of course he already knew that.

"Yes" he answered anyway

"Who are they…the…mothers" she managed to stutter out

He paused as if unsure how to continue.

"Start with the oldest child" she snapped.

Taking a deep breath _this is worse than I thought it would be _he thought, but then looking up at her increasingly agitated face he went on.

"First you should understand this was not like an affair, any off them, I needed the children so I could research like with Johnathan and Jace"

It was such a terrible thing to say, knowing what he was Jocelyn simply took this as normal and nodded for him to continue whilst trying not to show outward signs of hurt and anger.

"Ok then, did you ever find it funny how a Céline Herondale only joined the circle because she married Stephen yet was so totally loyal? Well the reason is, I knew her already, when she still had her maiden name of Verlac. She and I had a son, on 30th May 1990. I never met the boy, she called him Sebastian, because he looked too much like me for it to be safe for him to live nearby, so he went to live with her sister, in France, until he turned eighteen."

"But wasn't it Johnathan who killed him?" she asked temporarily side tracked by shock.

"Yes" she said voice coloured by anger "I underestimated his jealousy for the boy."

With a sigh he continued "The second child I had was a girl, born on the 20th January 1991. But her mother was…well…she was Amatis" there was an awkward pause before his continued "She didn't want the child, as soon as she was born she told me she never wanted to see the child again. So I took the baby and moved her into Michael Wayland's home, until I could collect her."

"You were going to collect her?"

"Yes"

"And you didn't expect me to leave?"

"No"

"Then you _were _going to tell me?"

A slight line formed between Valentine's eyebrows "Of course I would have eventually, but I needed to work up to it"

Swallowing carefully she asked "What is her name?"

"I called her Anastasia Svetla Morgenstern" his voice had a note of pride that made her question;

"She's the one who can draw the new marks?"

A small smile tugged at his lips "Yes"

"But wait, she was staying with Michael. But you _still _killed him?" she said trying to keep disgust out of her voice.

"Of course, I did not trust him. He would have turned on me eventually. Him dying in that fire, just meant that a necessary death turned into a convenient one." He said it like any normal statement of fact.

_God, out of all the men I could have fallen in love with it had to be this one _she thought bitterly.

"Ok…Ok, and the third?" she nudged.

"Well, Maryse-"

"-WHAT!" the word was so loud it hurt her own ears.

He waited knowing that if he spoke she would interrupt with question on the tip of her tongue, and he was right as a few seconds later she said quietly "When was this child born?"

"She was born on 2nd April 1991"

"_Isabelle?!_"

"Yep, I always wondered why no one question why a child with two blue eyed parents came out with black ones." His tone was off had but he watched her carefully.

After taking a few steadying breaths she said as calmly as she could "I took Clary, Maryse took Isabelle, Sebastian was living with his aunt but you had Johnathan and Anastasia, why take Jace?"

"After Stephen was killed, I did find Céline when she had slit her wrists, but what I didn't say was that she left a note. It said that she had given me a child and that I owed it to her to raise the child she could not"

"I need to shower" she said suddenly

He looked at her shocked "Ok. You take all the time you need. I'll be in the library all day come find be when you're ready."

She nodded stiffly and almost ran out the door.

He looked after her wondering if this foreign feeling in his chest was remorse.


	10. Ave atque vale

**This is the last full chapter, I hope you enjoyed the story and the twists ;) I will be doing one more chapter which will be the notes Jocelyn writes. Please review, this is my first full story I want to know if you liked it, I'm also open to criticisms x**

After having a long burning shower, Jocelyn sat out in front of the house for the rest of the day, drawing everything in sight and thinking more than was wise. The warm spring breeze fluttered her hair, but she pushed it back impatiently. The long, yellowing grass was tickling her bare legs and feet, damn him for only filling her wardrobe with flimsy summer dresses. The one she had on was white with daisy chains all over it, she had immediately hated it, but it was the only one that even touched her knees. Feeling resentment at being dressed like a little girl, she picked up her pencil and went back to trying to draw the tree in front of her. She pressed the pencil to the page, when images of her morning conversation flooded her mind the pencil broke as she pressed too hard on the page. Breathing very hard she through the notepad away.

"Why did you keep asking questions when you knew you couldn't handle it?" she said aloud to no one in particular.

Standing up, to agitated to stay still, she walk over to the tree and began to climb, not caring that it cut her feet or tore her dress. Once at the top she look out into her surrounding but was met by nothing but never-ending trees. It was eerie like the haunted woods in fairy tales. But the beauty of the setting sun and ever expanding orange sky, cleared her head so she could think. She had to rational about this, the last time she had acted on hurt and resentment because of this man had led to disastrous consequences, she had been trying to correct ever since.

_Ok so think carefully_ of course she was a little annoyed by the fact that he had fathered three children whilst they were married, but like in the situation with Johnathan, she had to accept that, that was just who Valentine was. And she did accept it. The problem she was facing now was that he was just so blasé about murder and his experiments _that's because he is a psychopath _the nasty little voice was back. But like always it was right. She couldn't let him continue anymore. A sob escaped her as she realised what she had to do now. She would not survive it, her heart would not cope.

Accepting the inevitable she began to climb down the tree. Walking back to the house she went straight to the library and sat down in the chair.

Jocelyn heard him through the other side of the bookcase and called out "You can come in"

He stepped sheepishly around the frame and sat down opposite.

"So…have you thought about things?"

Not looking him in the eye she replied "What was there to think about? There's nothing ever of use can do now" this at least was true "I love you, so I have to just accept it" she gave him a fake smile and felt shock that he once again fell under her spell and returned with a smile of his own.

Later on she was lying in bed her head on his chest, his gentle breathing stirring her hair. Siting up she began to write two letters, one to the Clave and the other to her daughter, putting them both on the window ledge she drew a portal, using the mark Clary had shown her, and went back to sit by her husband. Tears streamed down her face as she brought down the blade, with shaking hand, into the heart of the only man she ever loved. Lifting the blade on more time she pulled into her own shattered heart. The last thing she saw was a stunningly beautiful young girl with wide blue eyes and white blonde hair standing the doorway mouthing the words;

"Ave atque vale" 


	11. The Letters

**Here's the letters :'(**

Inquisitor

First thing first, you should know that Lucian Greymark was murdered by Valentine Morgenstern on a date I do not know. The body was not destroyed so it is your duty to return it to the pack. I do not say this for my benefit, but for my daughters so that she can bury the only father she has ever known. I want to state now that I never renounced my elegance to my husband and should therefore be burned with him, these are my only requests. You owe me this after all the information I have given to the Clave over the years.

Jocelyn Morgenstern

My Dearest Clary,

You are going to hear a lot of things about me in the coming months a lot of them bad most of them true. But I need you to trust me on this find Maryse Lightwood and tell her I knew in the end about Isabelle she'll know what I'm talking about don't stop until she tells you the truth. Also you must try to find a girl called Anastasia Svetla Morgenstern she is very important and you can help each other. And finally sweetheart know that you were the only good thing your father and I every did together, I will love you always

Mum x


	12. Extra

**I'm going to write and sequel to this story called 'Bright Eyes' it will be from the point of view of Anastasia Svetla Morgenstern. It will be stories about her growing up with Valentine and Johnathan and how she interprets events during the books x **


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